I was going to hold off on this until there was a better presentation but a New Better Secret Project is about to ram into this one like a locomotive into a slow witted cow daydreaming in the wrong place and I need to shove it off the tracks before it gets obliterated in a cacophony of Sweet Barking Cheese!
Leaving Dakota is the story of a photographer who likes to use the worst cameras he can find to photograph ambitious projects. Somewhere along the line he runs into a model with a new haircut and a Thanksgiving weekend with nothing to do. The result is a series of 25 photos of something strange going on -- you can see them all, try and figure out what's going on, (and buy prints for your wall) here.
Some images from Leaving Dakota:
yagathai in the role he made famous.)
For the camera geeks -- here's my entire setup (minus the tripod) -- two 1.3 megapixel decade old digital Leica's and five memory cards which held a total of 55 photos. The challenge of this alone was as exhilarating as racing for pink slips with Harrison Ford. Each shot needed to be set up and, if necessary, rehearsed before taking the photo. I tried to get everything in one take, partly because I didn't have many memory cards, but also because the cameras are REALLY SLOW and after you've taken a photo there's a good 10 seconds while it writes to the card and everybody is standing around tapping their foot and staring at you.
I don't recommend this method of working to anyone.
Part of this was shot in the bell tower of a church which was an amazing experience which deserves it's own blog post, because when we climbed the ladder in the back of a closet into the forgotten space between the ceiling and the roof -- a huge expanse a hundred feet wide and maybe half again as long with a roof thirty feet above us I realized this is the place I dream about -- that dream where you live in a fantastic, labyrinthine house, with wood and rusted iron and there are hidden spaces and rooms you don't remember and stairways you didn't know about and mezzanines and pools and crouching creatures -- that was this place. I greeted it as though I'd been ripped from its bosom as a child and returned as a dawning adult.
In any event, we climbed another wooden ladder into a tower, high above the streets below where light came through four walls of stained glass like gushing foam from a waterfall and we looked around in dumbstruck awe at the spiral that continued above us, in a magnificent place nobody sees -- In case I'd forgotten, this was to remind me that I am the luckiest person I know -- that I have these opportunities and people I can work with -- and you all to share it with. That's a big part. Thanks for being here.
Life at 100 mph. Today do something more awesome than you expected.
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